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The Voice
Contributed by
net
on
Sunday, 10th May 2009 @ 03:48:48 PM in AEST
Topic:
DarkPoetry
|
A desk, a chair and walls surround A kindle of hope struggling to survive The guilt he builds through his rants Fuels him to sink further low And the voice so familiar drones on and on The haze of his fury spreads through the floor There seems to be no end where the booze comes from And the fire keeps clicking on and of, on and of Sits through words, jumping rocks on a mountains edge Emotions turning into thorns Hurting constantly in search of proof
Witnessing himself is his ritual And a cruel game he plays with his role Pushing buttons with labels crossed Trapped in his dance of never ending turns A mockery of a dream he resurrected The illusion covering the untold Layers of skin with nothing to support Lets others see him through
Loses and plays with cruel metaphors Runs and creeps back in from the back door Loves and kills it to keep on weeping more Moves until the space engulfs him whole The world expends to leave him alone And the voice keeps droning on Until there is no more
Copyright ©
net
... [
2009-05-10 15:48:48] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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